


AKA Penny and a Dime

by Preelikeswriting



Series: Penny and Dime [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Frank and Jess bond silently, Gen, Its far to late at night for this bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preelikeswriting/pseuds/Preelikeswriting
Summary: Frank Castle pays a visit to popular name on the police scanner





	

**Author's Note:**

> I clearly don't own Marvel  
> This is my first time writing either of these characters so apologies for any OOCness.

Frank Castle wasn’t sure what he was expecting Jessica Jones to be like, but it certainly wasn't this. 

He had been laying low lately, having taken a bad hit to the head that had left him unable to see straight, much less shoot straight. This had left him laid up in bed resigned to listen to his police scanner, while reading the crime section of the newspaper that he stole from out front of his neighbor's door, until names and crimes swam around his head making him even dizzier than before. One quietly repeated name in all the madness however, was one Jessica Jones. 

Trespassing, B&E, and more drunken disorderlies then he could possibly count covered her rap sheet. However, recently the words PERSON OF INTEREST seemed to be popping up more and more and the death count around her just seemed to keep rising. What really  got him though was the fact that none of the charges seemed to stick. Sure she might spend a night in the drunk tank here and there or pay a little fine for some property damage but never anything major. It was like no matter what she did everyone just shrugged it off, And that didn’t sit right with him. He supposed it could be nothing, and she was hardly his normal target, but he had a couple more days still till he would be shooting comfortably again. Besides, anything was better than staying in his apartment any longer.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her apartment building was a dump, but he was hardly one to judge.The lobby was full of peeling paint dotted with spots of rot and mold and he could see from where he was standing the elevator where the Hope Schlotman murders had taken place. He chose to take the stairs.

Jessica’s floor was in just as bad shape as the rest of the building with the added bonus of a dying lightbulb in the hallway ceiling which flickered irritatingly. He spared a quick glance at the junkie passed out in the hallway before making his way to the busted door at the end of the hallway. He had half raised his hand to the doorknob when the door shuttered and swung inward revealing the apartments inhabitant.

She was smaller than he had expected, smelling strongly of alcohol and the buildings lingering scent of cigarettes. Wrapped in leather and a sweatshirt camera hung around her neck ready for a long night a taking dirty pictures of cheating husbands, he found himself reminded of his dog he had rescued from the irish. Once caught twice shy, ready to bite of the fingers of anyone who threatened to hurt her.

They stared at each other for a couple seconds before she stepped back and and waved him in with a sigh. “The Bondage Devil said I might be seeing you.”

He raised an eye at the nickname, picturing Red’s reaction to it. 

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure? I never pictured you as the house calls sort.”

“Figured I should take a look at the one causing all the buzz among the cops,” he said as his eyes ghosted around the room taking note of the bullet holes, broken shelves, and decidedly Jones sized holes in the walls. “They don’t seem to like you very much.”

She gave a little snort of laughter at that. “Pot calling the kettle black much?” she said as she turned to root around for something in the desk that had clearly just barely survived the carnage that had claimed the rest of the apartment.

She had a point.

“You have a hell of a lot of death connected to you for such a small woman.” He says watching as her shoulders stiffen and she freezes for half a second before continuing to riffle around.

“Well, some us are just born unlucky aren’t we?” she stands up bottle of whiskey in hand, what she had digging for he assumes, and takes a swig.

He grunts in response of her statement. He’s not Murdock, he knows when to stop asking questions. They stand in silence, her drinking, him just watching. She offered him the bottle, a peace offering, but he declines saying he’s more of a coffee man himself. She laughs and tells him he’s more then welcome to her supply. That someone named Malcolm keeps buying it for her.

They sit together in the dark on her crappy couch listening to the sounds of the traffic and people down below, just enjoying the presence of another human being. One that doesn’t have expectations, or judgement, someone who's just as tired and burnt out and as unwilling to ask for help.

“Hell of a sorry sight we are”

She laughs.

He’s not sure when exactly he falls asleep, but when he wakes up she and her camera are gone. Replacing her is a fidgety young man who, by the way he keeps glancing over at Frank from his place at the desk, is really wishing he wasn’t there right now.

“Uh, Morning?” The kid says, clearly at a loss for what to do.

Frank grunts and makes his way out of the office refusing to acknowledge the slightly lighted weight in his gut.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, tell me in the comments if you would want any more of these interactions, or maybe the first Matt and Jessica meeting. Fell free to tell me about any spelling/grammar errors so I can go back through and fix them.


End file.
